


The Art and Science of Kissing, by Blaine Anderson

by ItsNotEasyBeingQueen



Series: The Art and Science of Kissing, by Blaine Anderson [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: BadBoy!Blaine, High School AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsNotEasyBeingQueen/pseuds/ItsNotEasyBeingQueen
Summary: High School AU in which badboy!Blaine (don't worry, he's not that bad) decides to teach Kurt about kissing - without actually kissing him.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  I’ve been working on this fic on and off for three months.  I am so excited that it is finally done and that I get to share it with you!  My thanks to GleefulDarrenCrissFan for her help with a key plot point. Extra-special thanks and to roxymusicandlayers for giving it a final read-through when I couldn’t make sense of the words anymore, and then for the fabulous artwork! You ladies rock!!
> 
> This fic is complete, and will be a total of three chapters.  Hope you enjoy!

 

Much to Kurt’s chagrin, when he reached his locker to change his books before lunch, _they_ were there.  They’d been there every day this week.  Every.  Single.  Day.

Apparently, the jock and cheerleader who had the lockers next to his had started dating.  How did Kurt know this?  He knew because at every opportunity, the two of them were slammed up against the lockers (and each other), kissing and groping one another in a way that was borderline obscene.  The first day, Kurt had politely asked them to move over.  By Wednesday, he had taken to moving next to them, dialing his locker combination, and then using the door to shove them out of the way.  Amazingly, nothing seemed to be enough to break their liplock.

So here it was, Friday, and the tonsil-hockey Olympiad was in full swing.  Kurt stopped for a moment, bracing himself before “going in,” as he called it.  But instead of taking the few final steps, he paused.  A strange feeling washed over him.  Before he could think too much about it and give that feeling a name, a familiar voice spoke in his ear.

“You know it’s rude to watch other people make out, sexy.”  Kurt’s eyes rolled back into his head before closing completely.  Of course.  His day wasn’t bad enough without this guy coming in to give color commentary.

Tightening his hold on his books, Kurt walked forward to his locker.  He didn’t have to turn around to know that his unwanted companion had followed him.  He turned the dial and pried open the door, giving it perhaps a stronger shove than he had done the past couple of days, but the muscled goon pawing his girlfriend could take it.

On his other side, a figure leaned in against the next locker.  Kurt didn’t acknowledge him.  This did not deter the figure from speaking, however.

“See, I never would have pegged you for a voyeur, but it’s always the quiet ones, I guess.”

Kurt finally turned his head to glare at the boy.  Blaine Anderson.  Resident bad boy of McKinley High.  He rode a motorcycle to school, and was rarely seen in anything other than his signature leather jacket, some type of band t-shirt, and ridiculously tight jeans.  He was openly gay, but somehow immune to the harassment that Kurt received, and the stories of his exploits were legendary.  What was even more maddening was that, in spite of all this, he was an A student, so none of the teachers gave him a hard time.  It was ridiculous.

Imagine Kurt’s frustration, then, when he had been paired up with Blaine as his lab partner in chemistry.  Oh, and did he mention that they had been assigned as partners for a semester-long English lit project, too?  Yeah.  So, the two of them were together for some part of every school day, along with spending time together after school to work on the project. 

In other words, Blaine was impossible to avoid…and he’d taken a very, _very_ obvious liking to Kurt.

“What do you want, Blaine?” Kurt sighed, not masking his irritation in the slightest.

“Ooh,” Blaine drawled, sidling closer to Kurt and trailing a finger up and down the edge of the locker.  “I’m afraid we don’t have enough time for what I want.”

Kurt rolled his eyes again and returned his attention to the books in his locker. 

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby,” Blaine cooed.  “I saw you over here looking all moon-eyed at the makeout morons over there and thought you could use some company.”

“I was not,” Kurt replied, slamming his locker shut emphatically, “looking ‘moon-eyed’ at them.  They’re disgusting.”

“Well, that’s because they’re doing it wrong,” Blaine chirped back, slinging a casual arm around Kurt’s shoulder and walking him towards the cafeteria.  In the two months that they’d been paired up, Kurt had come to accept a certain amount of physical contact from Blaine.  He’d noticed him doing it with his other friends, and so long as his hands didn’t stray where they didn’t belong (which they had not, miraculously, done so far), he let it slide. 

“Oh, and you know better, I suppose,” Kurt retorted.

Blaine glanced slyly at Kurt.  He leaned in and whispered lowly, “You have no idea.”

Kurt pulled away and made a point of rubbing at his ear as if to brush off Blaine’s warm breath.  “As far as you’re concerned, it’s going to stay that way.”

Blaine let out a hearty laugh and returned his arm to Kurt’s shoulder.  “Now, now,” he admonished patronizingly.  “You really shouldn’t dismiss me so quickly.  You’re a smart young man pursuing a quality education in this esteemed institution of higher learning,” he said sarcastically, waving his free arm around the hallway.  “Why deny yourself the opportunity to learn the fine art of kissing properly from a master?”

They reached the cafeteria, and Blaine fell into line behind Kurt as they picked out their lunches.  “Now you’re some kind of professor of the ‘art of kissing’?” Kurt asked incredulously as he picked the least offensive salad he could find. 

“Yes, I’ve made an art, nay, a _science_ , out of kissing, gorgeous.  I could teach you a few things.”

Kurt eyed Blaine’s tray, which consisted of a variety of things Kurt would never dream of eating.  “You’re headed for a heart attack, nay, food poisoning, with your lunch today,” he volleyed back, walking towards his usual table.

Fridays were difficult.  Usually, he sat with the other Glee kids, but his and their Friday schedules were such that their lunch periods didn’t intersect.  For the first couple of weeks of the semester, he ate alone at the small table against the wall.  Then one day, Blaine had unceremoniously plopped himself in the empty chair across from him, shoving a French fry in his mouth and striking up a conversation as if his sitting there was nothing out of the ordinary.  Kurt had tried to object, but Blaine ignored him and chatted about random nonsense.  Eventually, as seemed to be their pattern, Blaine’s persistence wore Kurt down and he didn’t argue anymore. 

Kurt would never admit it, but deep down, he was grateful for the company. 

So here they were, at what had become their usual Friday lunch table.  Blaine had thankfully dropped the subject of kissing and had moved on to some other topic that Kurt really didn’t care about.  His mind kept wandering to the annoying couple sucking face by his locker, and the odd emotion that had passed through him at the sight before Blaine had arrived.  It didn’t help that said annoying couple was sitting at a table right within Kurt’s eyeline.

His musings were rudely interrupted by something waving in front of his face.  Blinking rapidly at the change of focus, he soon saw that the offending object was a tater tot being flailed about by Blaine.

“Earth to gorgeous,” Blaine was singing. 

Kurt sighed as he returned his attention to his lunch, picking away at some sketchy-looking lettuce.

Blaine eyed him suspiciously, then glanced over his shoulder to see what had had Kurt so distracted.  He immediately spotted the annoying locker lovers and turned back to Kurt with a smirk.  “Damn, baby, you really are taken with the heteros, aren’t you?  Thinking of asking to make it a threesome?”

Kurt rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day.  “Don’t be vulgar,” he muttered.

“Sorry,” Blaine replied contritely.  “Tot?”

Kurt regarded the tater tot being held out in his direction.  “No, thanks,” he countered with an arched brow.  “I don’t know where that hand has been.”

Blaine laughed aloud, clearly pleased with Kurt’s comeback.  “That’s true,” he chuckled, popping the bite-sized snack into his own mouth.  He then nudged the tray of tater tots closer to the center of the table in a silent offer.  “But really, what’s with you and the gropey twins over there?”  Seeing Kurt about to object, he held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  “No offense, no vulgarity.”

Kurt returned his glance to what was left of his salad, using the fork to rearrange the same few vegetables into different patterns over and over.  He realized that Blaine was waiting for an answer – quietly.  Blaine was never quiet.  Kurt could handle the non-stop innuendo and banter, and could keep up with Blaine smart line for smart line.  But the silence…

“I dunno,” he mumbled.  He raised his head to find Blaine watching him intently, his head tipped to one side and his face free of the sardonic smirk that was normally in place.  “I guess I just wondered, you know,” he trailed off with a sigh.

“What it feels like?” Blaine supplied, his voice softer than Kurt had ever heard it.

Kurt’s head dropped as he felt the color flood his face.  Oh, lord, had he just confessed to Blaine Freaking Anderson that he’d never been kissed?  He closed his eyes and shook his head.  What an idiot he was.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Blaine soothed.

“No, it isn’t,” Kurt snapped angrily.  He kept his volume barely above a whisper, not wanting anyone at a nearby table to overhear.  “It really isn’t.  But what would you know about that?  You’ve kissed how many guys, Blaine?  Huh?  You have no idea what it’s like.  As if I am not enough of a freak in this godforsaken school, I have no idea what it’s like to be kissed.  I’m sixteen.  I should know this already.  People kiss when they’re twelve, for heaven’s sake.  Everyone my age already knows what they’re doing.  And I have to watch people like that,” he jerked his head in the direction of the annoying couple, who were now going at it at the lunch table, “be all over each other every fricking day.  It’s so simple for them.  It’s so simple for you.  One of these days, I may actually find a guy I want to kiss, and I’m not going to know what I’m doing, and I’m going to make a fool out of myself.  It’s going to be horrible, and I…”

“Okay, okay, gorgeous,” Blaine interjected, reaching across the small table to take a hold of Kurt’s arm.  “Calm down.  Just…take a breath.” 

Kurt found he was breathing hard, having worked himself up more than he realized during his rant.  His arm twitched, and Blaine got the hint, removing his hand but maintaining eye contact.  “Here, have a tot.  Tots make everything better,” he added with a smirk, shoving the tray closer to Kurt.

Without too much thought, Kurt reached over and picked up one of the tater tots, popping it into his mouth and taking the moment to collect himself. 

Blaine crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward.  “You aren’t a freak, Kurt,” he said sincerely.  “However,” he leaned in a little more and started to grin like the Cheshire Cat, “if you want, I could help you learn what you want to know.”

Thankfully, Kurt had already swallowed his mouthful of food; otherwise, he might have choked at Blaine’s implication.  “Really, Blaine?  I say all of that stuff to you and you decide to hit on me?  I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Blaine protested, sitting upright again.  “I was _not_ hitting on you.”

Kurt’s glare was clear enough that no words were needed.

“Seriously,” Blaine continued, defending himself.  “You said it yourself – I’ve kissed a lot of guys, and you haven’t kissed any.”  Kurt’s eyes darted around the room, fearful that someone had overheard, but no one seemed interest in their conversation.  “Sorry,” Blaine said, dropping his volume.  “Anyway, all I am offering is to teach you, _academically_ , the…skillset…that you are currently missing.”

“Academically,” Kurt repeated incredulously.

“Academically,” Blaine reiterated.  “I wouldn’t even touch you.  It would be an educational, fact-based study of…” Kurt’s widened eyes reminded him to check his language, “…of the _topic_ in question.   A ‘how to’ guide, if you will.”  He sat back, quite pleased with himself.

Kurt stared blankly back at him.  Blaine had to be kidding, right?  Except he didn’t appear to be kidding.  “You’re insane,” he blurted.

As if it were planned, the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch period.  Blaine stood and gathered his things.  Kurt was still shell-shocked, so he hadn’t yet risen when Blaine walked over and leaned close to his ear.  “Think about it, sexy,” he whispered, then walked away.

Kurt watched as Blaine sauntered across the cafeteria with the other students heading for class.  With a shake of his head, he stood and grabbed his own books.  “Insane,” he repeated under his breath.

xoxoxo

The rest of Friday passed uneventfully, mostly because he didn’t see Blaine again.  After his last class and Glee Club, he couldn’t get out of the school fast enough and put the day behind him to have a couple of days to himself, free of the makeout twins and Blaine’s probing gazes.

Kurt had noticed that whenever he had an upset stomach, everything on TV seemed to revolve around food.  Apparently, that phenomenon didn’t only occur with stomachaches.  He settled in to watch TV Friday night and get his mind off of things.  Unfortunately, no matter what channel he turned to, someone was kissing someone else.  “The Notebook” – kissing in the rain.  “Spiderman” – kissing upside-down in the rain.  “The Little Mermaid” – a crab singing about kissing.  Even the commercials seemed to be full of couples in liplock.

Finally, he clicked off the television, fell backwards on his bed and flung his arm over his eyes.  He had to get his mind on something else, or this weekend was going to be torture.  Rousing himself, he headed in to take a shower.  Maybe washing his hair would rinse away some of the obsessive thoughts he had about finally getting kissed. 

It was worth a shot.

He started the water running to get it nice and warm.  As he undressed, he glanced at his back in the mirror out of habit.  There wasn’t much he could do about the bruises he got from getting slammed into lockers or pushed into walls, but for some reason, he felt the need to keep tabs on them.  He gave his back a cursory check, then took a step to get into the shower and froze.  Slowly, he turned his head back again.

The remnants of a small, solitary bruise, mostly yellow and almost completely faded, marked his left shoulder blade.  Other than that, there was nothing.  Kurt remembered when that mark had appeared.  Azimio had pushed him into his gym locker after class one afternoon.  That had been a few weeks ago.

Kurt was shaken by the realization that no one had touched him in weeks.  _Weeks_.  Usually, the only time he healed like this was over summer vacation.  Yet here he was, in the middle of the semester, and his body was nearly free from the bruises and marks that normally accompanied his school year.  Come to think of it, he’d barely even seen Azimio, Karofsky, or the other Neanderthals who regularly made Kurt their Frisbee.  He knew they were still in school – they shared some classes, after all – but outside of that, they hadn’t been near him.  No slushies, no insults, no locker slams. 

How had he missed the change?  And why the reprieve?  The gathering steam from the shower was now fogging the mirror, reminding him of what he was supposed to be doing.  A good shower, a proper moisturizing routine, and turning in for the night was clearly the best idea in the world.

xoxoxo

Desperate for a distraction, Kurt dressed early the next morning, intending to head to the mall for some retail therapy.  His dad was putting in some time at the garage this weekend, Carole had an early shift at the hospital, and Finn had spent the night over at Puck’s, so Kurt had the house to himself.  As he pressed the button to start the coffeemaker and was choosing a bagel, he heard a knock at the door. 

“Hi, study buddy!” Blaine announced cheerily as he strolled past a surprised Kurt into the Hudmel family home. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  Previously, on ASK:  Kurt has been paired with McKinley badboy Blaine Anderson on a school project.  Blaine has his own project in the works, too - teaching Kurt about kissing, which he intends to do without actually kissing him.  How, you ask?  Well, Blaine just arrived at Kurt's door, so I think you're about to find out...

“Uh, Blaine?  What are you doing here?” Kurt asked, still standing by the open door.

Blaine spun around dramatically, feigning surprise.  “Don’t tell me you forgot!” he exclaimed, clutching his hand to his heart.  Sighing, he walked back to Kurt and gently removed his hand from the door, closing it for him.  “Our lit project, gorgeous.  You said we needed to start working on it every other Saturday, beginning today.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, opening the calendar feature and shoving it in Kurt’s face.  “You made me put it on my calendar so I wouldn’t, and I quote ‘flake out’ on you.”

Kurt closed his eyes and groaned in frustration.  How had he forgotten? 

“Could we maybe do this next week?” he tried weakly.

Blaine took his arm and began leading him away from the door.  “Nope,” he countered, popping the ‘p’ loudly.  “I dragged my fine ass all the way over here at this horrific hour on a Saturday because of your schedule.  You wouldn’t make me go all the way back home now, would you?” he implored, batting his eyelashes.

Kurt tried really hard not to stare at those eyelashes, by the way.

“Fine,” he huffed, heading for the stairs.  “My stuff is upstairs.  I’ll just go get it and bring it…”

“No need for that,” Blaine interrupted, following him.  Kurt stopped on the second step and turned to face Blaine.  “Well,” Blaine offered, not allowing Kurt to object, “if your stuff is upstairs, isn’t that the best place to work?  Unless,” he continued, climbing up to the same step and Kurt and crowding him a little, “you’re afraid to have me in your room.  Alone.”

“As if,” Kurt retorted.  The two stared at each other, Blaine finally reading Kurt’s unspoken message and moving away.  “If I have to endure this, I’m not doing it without my coffee,” he grumbled, stomping to the kitchen.  Blaine waited patiently on the stair, smiling broadly when Kurt returned with two cups of coffee and his bagel on a tray.  (He was nothing if not a proper host.)  Blaine took his cup and thanked Kurt with a wink, earning a groan from the other boy.

“Follow me,” Kurt sighed, starting up the stairs.  He ignored Blaine’s murmured, “With pleasure,” and tried not to think about the view Blaine had as they ascended.

Upon entering the bedroom, Kurt walked over to the desk and began clearing a space for the two of them to work.  Blaine, on the other hand, went straight for the bed.  He dropped his bag onto the floor and plopped himself on the edge of the queen-sized bed, bouncing up and down a few times as if testing it out.  “Comfy,” he declared with a grin.

“What are you doing?” Kurt demanded, the annoyance practically dripping from his voice.

“What?” Blaine replied innocently.  “There isn’t enough room for both of us at that teeny, tiny little desk of yours.  There’s _lots_ of room over here,” he suggested, patting the bedspread with his hand.  Kurt crossed his arms resolutely, refusing to move.  Blaine relented, dropping the smarmy attitude and sighing.  “Honestly, there isn’t much space for us, our laptops, and our books over there.  We can spread out on the bed easier.  Just get over here so we can get started, okay?”

Kurt took a beat and, letting out a final, frustrated breath, snatched his laptop and books from the desk and moved over to the bed.  He told the voice inside him to shut up when it started freaking out that a cute boy was on his bed.  Wait, _cute_?  When did that happen?  No, Kurt.  No.  Homework.

He made sure to sit as far from Blaine as possible.  Begrudgingly, he noted that being on the bed did give them more room to work.  Plus, it was more comfortable.  He’d eat his own arm before admitting that to Blaine, of course.

A couple of rather productive hours later, Blaine slapped his computer closed.  “That’s it.  I cannot be expected to spend any more of my Saturday on this,” he proclaimed, falling backwards to lie sideways across the bed. 

Kurt shook his head, the tiniest bit of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.  They really had gotten a lot more done that he’d expected, and he was happy to call it quits, too.  He shut down his own computer and glanced over at Blaine, who had rolled onto his side and was now facing him, his head propped up on one hand.  “So, did you give my offer any more thought?”

“What offer?” Kurt played dumb while internally panicking. 

“My little _extra-curricular_ class, of course,” he answered, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, my god.  You can’t be seriously bringing that up again,” Kurt complained.

“Hey, I’m only trying to help you out, beautiful.  Pay it forward and all that, right?”

“So your idea of paying it forward is to try to manipulate me into kissing you by pretending to be some type of expert sharing his knowledge?  Classy.”

Blaine sat up, an expression on his face that was completely unfamiliar to Kurt.  Was that…was Blaine _offended_ by Kurt’s accusation? 

“Look,” he explained, clearing his throat and softening his voice subtly. “I promise I’m not trying to be a jerk.  I know, it’s hard to believe that.”  He paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts and choosing his words.  “I saw how you were watching that ox and his girlfriend at school, and I heard how upset you were about…about not knowing what to do.  I know how you like to be… _prepared_ for things,” he said, waving his hand towards the array of books strewn across the bed.  “One of these days, you’re going to want to kiss someone, and you’ll feel better about it if you know what to expect.  I’m simply offering to help you with that.  Again, it will be totally academic.  No tricks.  No manipulation.”

Kurt eyed him warily.  In spite of himself, he had spent a significant amount of time tossing and turning the night before.  He had convinced himself that Blaine had been kidding about the whole thing, and telling himself that even if he had not, there was no way Kurt would ever agree to it. 

It was troubling, then, when he found himself staring across the bed at Blaine, who was eyeing him expectantly. 

“You know, I could easily look all this up on the internet and save us both the aggravation,” Kurt argued.  That’s good, he thought.  Deflect, deflect, deflect.

“You _could_ , but you won’t,” Blaine volleyed back immediately.  “You haven’t so far, or you wouldn’t be sitting here right now trying to convince me that you don’t want to do this even though you do.”  His trademark smug expression had returned.  He’d caught Kurt, and he knew it.

Kurt stared at Blaine, stumped into silence.  This was bad.  This was very, very bad.  Nothing good could come of this.  He should kick Blaine and his leather jacket and his smirk out the door and go to the mall.  He should.

Blaine saw the instant that Kurt’s resolve broke.  “Yes!” he yelled, pumping his fist in the air and jostling them both as he shot upright on the bed. 

“No, no, no,” Kurt protested.

“Uh uh, no backing out now,” Blaine practically cheered, diving off the bed and digging around in his bag before jumping back up on the bed.  Kurt, startled by the sudden movement, pressed his back to the headboard and drew his knees up in front of him.  Unfortunately, this gave Blaine the opportunity to sit even closer, parking himself right in front of Kurt with his legs criss-crossed.  He leaned forward, resting his forearm across Kurt’s knees and then propping his chin on his arm.  “Hi,” he grinned.

“Blaine,” Kurt warned.

Blaine righted himself, patting Kurt lightly on the knee before removing his arm.  “No worries, gorgeous.  It’s all business.  See?  I brought…” he reached behind him and whipped out a small stack of white cards with a flourish, “…flashcards!” he finished proudly.

Kurt raised an incredulous brow.  “Flashcards?”

“Yep!  The study buddy of champions, babe.”

Kurt bit his lip to refrain from smiling.  “So I’m supposed to take kissing advice from a guy who spent Friday night at home making flashcards?”

Blaine narrowed his eyes playfully.  “Well, seeing as I knew I had to be here at the ass-crack of dawn,”

“You got here at nine-thirty, Blaine,” Kurt interjected.

“Ass-crack of dawn on a Saturday, sweetheart,” Blaine insisted.  “Anyway, I knew you’d give in to my brilliant idea, and I wanted you to have something to study later.  Never let it be said that Blaine Anderson was a shoddy teacher.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Kurt complained.

“And you’re stalling,” Blaine countered, staring Kurt down once again.

Sighing heavily, Kurt shifted against the pillow behind him, wishing he could back further away as Blaine’s closeness was…disconcerting.  However, his curiosity was getting the better of him.  Dammit.  “Fine,” he exhaled. 

“Excellent.” Blaine resettled himself, moving backwards a few inches.  If Kurt didn’t know better, he would have sworn that Blaine was doing it because he sensed Kurt’s discomfort. 

“Now, for starters,” Blaine began, his tone mimicking that of a teacher, “there are the practical aspects – how to lean in, how to move your lips, what to do with your tongue,” he said, his eyes flicking down to Kurt’s mouth and back up.  Kurt hoped Blaine missed the color that highlighted his cheeks, but doubted it.  “Those are things that are hard to explain without…” he paused again, staring more obviously at Kurt’s lips, “ _demonstrating_ ,” he finished, dropping his voice and winking.  Before Kurt could object, Blaine pressed on.  “However, we are not going to talk about those things.”

Kurt looked confused.  “We’re not?”

“Nope.  Gorgeous, it doesn’t take a genius to know that when you kiss someone, your lips meet their lips.  It’s the subtle things that make it good or bad – or, in my case, fantastic.”  He grinned proudly.  “These subtle things – tips, if you will – are the things that I am going to teach you.  So, without further ado, I proudly present…” he held up the first flashcard, which had the next words he spoke written out on it.  “The Art and Science of Kissing, by Blaine Anderson.”

“You’ve lost your mind,” Kurt said, chuckling in spite of himself.

“Possibly.  But pay attention,” Blaine continued undaunted.  “I’ve identified six things you should keep in mind to make your kissing experience awesome.  Follow these, and you’ll be a master in no time.”

Kurt shifted on the bed, dropping his knees and folding his legs beneath him so that his position mirrored Blaine’s.  “You better make this worthwhile, Anderson,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Have faith, sexy.  Have faith.”  Blaine shuffled through the cards and held one up before him.  “The first tip:  Breathe.”

“Fascinating,” Kurt deadpanned.

Blaine laughed.  “I’m serious.  You’ll be nervous, and your first reaction will be to hold your breath.  I had one guy,” he looked wistfully into the distance, calling forth the memory, “who passed out on me before I even touched him.  He got so worked up, he held his breath and hit the floor.”

“You’re making that up.”

“True story, beautiful.  So anyway, just remember to breathe.  Take a breath before you lean in, and breathe through your nose while you’re kissing.  You’ll have to come up for air eventually, but you can go a lot longer if you pay attention.”

“Fine.  I’m breathing.  What’s next, genius?”

“First of all, thank you for acknowledging my brilliance,” he teased, holding up the next card.  “So tip number two is:  Loosen up.”

“Isn’t that another way of saying I should breathe?” Kurt asked, feeling less impressed by the moment.

“Not at all.  The breathing thing, that’s pretty standard.  Loosen up?  That’s tailor made for you.”   At Kurt’s quizzical expression, he went on.  “Babe, you are one of the most uptight people I know.”

“Hey!” Kurt exclaimed, offended.

“Calm down, I’m simply being honest.  You are so stiff and rigid all the time.  Even when I put my arm around your shoulder at school, I can feel you tense up.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t had the best track record with people touching me in those halls, now have I?” Kurt spat out without hesitation. 

Blaine flinched.  “I know,” he responded quietly, laying a gentle hand on Kurt’s knee for a second.  “But that’s the thing – if you’re going to get close to someone, you have to let some of that fear go.  Relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Kurt grumbled.

Blaine withdrew his hand and smiled, but it wasn’t his usual smirk.  No, this smile was almost sad, Kurt thought.  In fact, Kurt could have sworn that it was as if he…cared?

“Well, it’s just something to keep in mind.  Something to work on.  Now,” he said, clearing his throat and returning to his lighter mood, “I’ve combined tips number three and four, as they sort of go together.”  He held up another flashcard and announced the title, “Adapt and Improvise.”

“Possibly the least romantic words ever,” Kurt commented.

“Maybe, but they’re important.  You see,” Blaine lectured, “every person you kiss will be different.  Some may be taller than you.  Some,” he winked suggestively, “may be a little shorter.”  Kurt rolled his eyes at Blaine’s clear self-reference.  “Mouths are different; bodies are different.  You can’t develop a single way of kissing and apply it to anyone.  You have to customize it for each guy.  Make adjustments as you go along.  Hence, _Adapt_ and _Improvise_.”

“Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, Blaine?  I mean, I haven’t,” Kurt hesitated and turned away before continuing, “I haven’t even kissed _one_ guy yet, and you’re telling me how to adjust to more than one?”

“This is a comprehensive preparation course, sweetheart.  The Blaine Anderson Art and Science of Kissing is meant to take you not only through your first kiss, but through every kiss thereafter.  Besides, gorgeous,” he reached out and brushed one finger lightly across Kurt’s cheek, coaxing him to look up, “if there’s one thing I know, it’s that once you put yourself out there, the guys will be lining up around the block to kiss you.”  Something akin to sadness flickered across Blaine’s face again, and then it was gone.

Kurt didn’t know what he’d expected when he agreed to Blaine’s ridiculous offer, but it certainly hadn’t been this.  He’d feared that he would be faced with a litany of crass comments or come-ons designed to lure him into kissing Blaine.  Instead, he was receiving what he begrudgingly acknowledged to be actual, real, helpful advice to make him less nervous about things.

Who knew?

“Next on the list:  Negotiate,” Blaine announced, holding up yet another flashcard and stirring Kurt from his observations. 

“Like in a business deal?”

Blaine tipped his head from side to side.  “Mmm, kind of,” he acknowledged.  “You see, when you have two guys, there’s always a bit of a power play between them.  A fight for dominance, if you will.”  Seeing how Kurt blanched at the word “dominance,” Blaine chuckled.  “No, no.  Not _that_ kind of dominance…” he corrected, then added lowly, “though I love that that is where your mind went,” he finished with a grin.  “Anyway, what I meant is that kissing is kind of like dancing:  you’re going to want to take the lead, and so is he.  Obviously, you can’t both lead – someone has to follow.  So, you learn to negotiate, sort of wordlessly.  Let him take the reins sometimes, and don’t be afraid to take charge sometimes, too.”

“That…” Kurt faltered, “that actually kind of makes sense,” he muttered disbelievingly.

“Well, gee, stop.  You’ll make me blush,” Blaine said sarcastically, drawing a laugh and a blush from his student. 

“Sorry,” Kurt apologized.  When he seemed at a loss for words to continue, Blaine leapt in to spare him.

“As the cliché goes, all good things must come to an end, and we have now arrived at the final and, dare I say, most important tip of all.”  Blaine leaned to the side and dramatically tapped out a drumroll on the bed – or, at least, as much of a drumroll as one could do on a down comforter.

“The last and most important tip is:  Enjoy!” he proclaimed, producing the last flashcard with a flourish.  Kurt giggled and shook his head at Blaine’s antics in spite of himself.  What came next shocked him more than anything he’d heard all afternoon.

Blaine gathered the flashcards and set the stack aside.  Reaching out, Blaine took one of Kurt’s hands in both of his, holding it firmly but tenderly.  “Gorgeous,” Blaine began, his voice suddenly soft.  “I know I’ve made this kind of a joke, but in all seriousness, all I want you to know is that you shouldn’t worry about this.  Someday – soon, I guarantee – you’ll find a guy who is right for you.  Someone who makes your heart skip a beat and who can’t wait to kiss you.  I’m sure of it.  All I want is for you to enjoy it when it happens.  Let yourself be happy.  If anyone on this planet deserves to be happy,” he said, lightly squeezing Kurt’s hand, “it’s you.”

Blaine fell silent but didn’t release Kurt’s hand.  The two boys sat motionless, looking intently at one another, feeling the very air change between them.  Just as Kurt was going to open his mouth – to say what, he wasn’t sure – they heard the front door open and a loud voice call from downstairs.

“Kurt, I’m home!  Hey, kiddo – whose bike is that parked out front?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  Uh-oh.  Burt's home!  Hope you all liked Chapter Two.  The third and final chapter will be up soon.  Now, go make your flashcards and study...


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are – the third and final chapter!  Last time we left the boys, Blaine had just finished walking Kurt through his kissing tips, and Burt proved that he has the worst timing…

The booming voice of Burt Hummel startled both boys back to reality.  Blaine released Kurt’s hand and shuffled backwards on the bed.  “That’s my cue to leave,” he announced, hurriedly gathering his belongings.  He pulled on his leather jacket, and with it, seemed to slip back into his badboy persona.

Kurt, astounded by the abrupt shift in Blaine’s demeanor, stood dumbly while Blaine made his exit.  Upon reaching the door, Blaine turned and paused, leaning against the frame.  “Thanks for the study date, sexy,” he whispered smugly, all traces of the sincere boy who had been holding Kurt’s hand a moment ago gone.  “See ya Monday.”  He winked and disappeared from the doorway.

Kurt blinked twice and then came to his senses, bolting for the door.  After all, leather jacket-clad Blaine Anderson was heading downstairs – where Kurt’s father was waiting.

“Blaine!” he stage-whispered, practically tackling the other boy in the hallway. 

“Aww, did you miss me already, sweetheart?” Blaine cooed.

Kurt gave him an effortless bitch glare. “Will you be quiet?  Just…just let me handle this,” he hissed, shoving past him and bounding down the stairs.  The delay in replying to his father’s call was only getting longer and harder to explain by the second.

“Hey, dad,” he called out, hopefully not _too_ brightly, as he reached the bottom of the staircase.  He could feel Blaine descending behind him at a leisurely pace, the movement catching the eye of the elder Hummel.

“Who’s your friend?” Burt questioned, giving Blaine a wary onceover.

“Dad, you remember me talking about my Lit project and how we have to work in pairs, right?  Well, this is Blaine, my partner.”  Kurt caught the amused sideways glance from Blaine, who had come to stand beside him.  “My –my _project_ partner, Dad.  Not like, you know, my _partner_ partner, like _life_ partner, I mean…” he rambled on, feeling the flush building in his cheeks as his father looked back and forth between the two boys.  _Way to go, Kurt_ , he thought to himself, wishing the living room floor would open up and swallow him whole.  Much to his surprise, his reprieve came from a very unlikely source.

“Blaine Anderson.  Pleased to meet you, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine said, taking a step forward and extending his right hand.  Kurt’s head swiveled slowly sideways in disbelief.  If it weren’t for the leather jacket, tight jeans and well-worn boots, Kurt would have sworn he was standing beside a proper gentleman, not McKinley’s resident badass.  

“Nice to meet you, Blaine.  Call me Burt,” the man replied, giving the younger man a firm handshake and a nod. 

“Thank you very much, Burt.  I’m happy to have been teamed up with your son on this assignment.  He’s an excellent student, and I’m sure we’ll do well on the project.  We’re planning to meet here every other Saturday morning, so I will undoubtedly be seeing you again.”  Turning to a speechless Kurt, Blaine continued, “Thank you again for having me over.  I really should be going now.  I hope the both of you enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Burt seemed satisfied for the moment, telling Blaine goodbye and walking off toward the kitchen, saying something about lunch.  Kurt stared at Blaine in stunned silence as Blaine stood before him expectantly, a cheeky grin on his face.  Kurt finally realized he was waiting to be shown out.  “Oh, um, yeah,” he stammered, gesturing for Blaine to follow him and leading him out the front door.  Once the door was safely closed behind him, he caught Blaine by the arm to stop him from walking away.  “What in the _world_ was that?” he asked incredulously.

Blaine shrugged nonchalantly.  “What can I say?  I give good parent,” he quipped.  “Oh, and by the way,” he added, walking backwards down the driveway.  “You’re totally adorable when you’re flustered.  Later, gorgeous,” he called over his shoulder as he hopped on his motorcycle, strapped on his helmet, and roared down the street, leaving a baffled Kurt Hummel in his wake.

xoxoxo

The remainder of the weekend passed rather quickly.  Kurt endured an awkward exchange with his father about having a boy in his room with no one else in the house (“We were _studying_ , dad,” didn’t seem to have much of an effect), which ended with a promise that all future visits would occur downstairs, at the dining room table.  He retreated to his room after lunch, feeling so confused and overwhelmed by the morning that he completely forgot his plan to go shopping. 

Try as he might, Kurt couldn’t figure Blaine out.  The cocky, smirking, bad boy who dropped constant innuendos – _that_ Blaine he knew.  The kind, earnest, almost gentle boy who held his hand and told him he deserved to be happy?  The polite, eloquent young man who gracefully addressed his father?  That boy wasn’t the one he was accustomed to.  He could not for the life of him figure out which was the real Blaine.  When it occurred to him that they might _all_ be the real Blaine, his level of confusion skyrocketed, sending his thoughts into a whirl of overlapping possibilities.

Late Sunday night, as Kurt was getting ready for bed, he put his homework back into his bag for Monday morning.  Shifting one notebook, something fell out and caught his eye.  He reached into the bag and retrieved the small stack of index cards, chuckling softly when he read the top card.  “Art and Science of…” he muttered, rolling his eyes.  

He settled his bag and got into bed, flipping idly through the cards and shaking his head at the memories attached to them.  “Wait a minute,” he said aloud, sitting up abruptly.  He laid all of the cards out on the comforter in front of him and stared for a moment.  “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.  Only you, Anderson,” he declared, shaking his head in astonishment.

xoxoxo

Monday brought its usual routine, and Kurt barely even noticed having to shove the jock and girlfriend combo away from his locker.  A shout from down the hall drew his attention to where Karofsky and Azimio were laughing while a nerdy freshman knelt down to pick up his scattered books and papers.  Locking eyes with Karofsky, Kurt’s blood froze as the bully took a step in his direction.  Instantly, Azimio tapped Karofsky on the shoulder, shaking his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes wide.  Karofsky looked from his teammate back to Kurt, and then to something farther down hallway, before turning down a side hall with a sneer.

It was so odd.  Kurt had never known those two to pass by an opportunity to give him hell.  It didn’t make sense.  They hadn’t bothered him in weeks.  He didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but he couldn’t help but wonder again why…

“Hey, gorgeous,” the low voice of Blaine startled Kurt from his thoughts, causing him to flinch.

“Geez, Blaine,” he muttered, turning back to his locker and finishing up before slamming it shut.

“Sorry, beautiful.  Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it normally did.  Kurt caught those eyes, which usually focused on Kurt unwaveringly, flicking past him to the hall that the football players had just vacated. 

It all clicked.

“Come with me,” Kurt snapped, grabbing a hold of Blaine’s arm and walking resolutely down the hall.  Blaine stumbled for the first few steps until he caught up with the motion.

“Oh, this is all so sudden,” Blaine joked in an affectedly breathy voice. 

“Shut up,” Kurt hissed without looking back.

A couple of hallways and one flight of stairs later, Kurt threw open a door and strode through, Blaine still in tow.  Blaine hadn’t been to this part of the school before, but soon realized that they had entered the auditorium via a side entrance.  Their footsteps rang out on the wooden floor as Kurt walked them to center stage, next to the ghost light.  He finally stopped, turned on his heel, and faced Blaine. 

“What did you do?” he demanded.

“Whoa,” Blaine held up his hands defensively.  “Slow down.  What do you mean, what did I do?”

Kurt stepped closer, and repeated his question, pausing after each word, “What.  Did.  You.  Do?”

Blaine sighed.  “I’m going to need some context, gorgeous.”

“You want context?  Fine.  Since the day I first set foot in this miserable school, I have been a favorite target of Dave Karofsky and Azimio Adams.  Slushies, locker shoves, books knocked around, you name it.  I’ve lost track of the number of bruises I’ve had thanks to those Neanderthals,” Kurt ranted.  He softened a bit when he noted the pained expression that crossed Blaine’s face.

“Anyway,” he continued, less harshly, “all of a sudden, it stopped.  I didn’t even realize it at first, until I noticed that the bruises were gone.  I couldn’t understand what changed – until today.”

Blaine remained silent, waiting.

“It stopped when you started hanging around me, didn’t it?” Kurt asked quietly. 

“I…” Blaine faltered.

Kurt took another step closer.  “I didn’t put it together until a few minutes ago, when Karofsky and Azimio were heading toward me, then walked away – it was because they saw you, wasn’t it?  What did you do, Blaine?”

“I don’t understand,” Blaine finally answered, exasperated.  “They’re leaving you alone.  Isn’t that good?  Why are you upset about it?”

Kurt took a deep breath and let it out, trying to understand his own feelings well enough to explain them.  “I just want to know what’s going on, that’s all.”

Blaine regarded him carefully, choosing his words.  “Okay, okay,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck uncomfortably.  “I may have…had a conversation with them a while ago, making them understand that it was in their best interest to steer clear of you.”

“A _conversation_?” Kurt repeated incredulously, doubting that Blaine was somehow able to simply reason with them.  “Did you try to fight with them?  God, Blaine, they’re twice your size!  They could have killed you!”

“First of all, I can handle myself, thank you,” Blaine retorted.  “And secondly, I didn’t fight them.  I told you, we had a conversation.”  Kurt’s arched brow told Blaine he’d need to explain further.  “They’re not that hard to get around, you know.  Azimio’s a moron.  I happened to find out that he, well, let’s just say he’s taking some ‘herbal supplements’ that Coach Bieste wouldn’t approve of,” he smirked.  “I let him know that it would be a pity if that information became public.”

Kurt covered his eyes with his hand.  “Blackmail, Blaine?  Really?”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Kurt looked up again.  “And Karofsky?”

Blaine’s smirk disappeared instantly.  “Yeah.  Um,” he paused, glancing at the ceiling as if the answers were there somehow.  “He’s got his own secrets,” he finished, returning his gaze to Kurt.  “I won’t say what they are, but – promise me something, okay?  Steer clear of him.  And if he gives you any hassle, you tell me.  Promise,” he insisted.

Kurt was taken aback by the intensity in Blaine’s voice.  He was serious, and perhaps a little frightened.  “I can take care of myself, Blaine,” he argued, but without any heat.

“I know you can,” Blaine stepped forward and put a hand on Kurt’s arm, “but you shouldn’t have to.  And that guy…” he closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath.  “Please.  Promise me.”

“I promise,” Kurt consented quietly. 

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence fell between them as Blaine dropped his hand and shifted from one foot to the other, apparently not knowing what else to say.  Kurt, for his part, looked steadily at the boy in front of him, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head as though he’d be able to find what he sought if he just took the right angle. 

“Huh,” he uttered to himself, as if coming to a conclusion.  He turned on his heel, speaking louder for Blaine to hear.  “You know,” he began, walking toward the front of the stage while fishing around in his messenger bag, “it took me until last night to figure this out.”  He sat down and dangled his legs over the edge, then turned his head back to where Blaine remained.  A quick tip of his head was all the invitation Blaine needed to cross the stage and join him, sitting close enough that their arms and thighs barely brushed one another.

“Figure what out,” Blaine inquired as he noted the stack of index cards in Kurt’s hand.

“You think you’re so smart,” Kurt retorted, setting aside the title card and holding up the card with the first tip written on it.

“Breathe – that begins with a B,” he said, laying the card on his knee.  “Loosen up – that starts with the letter L,” he went on, placing that card atop the first one.  He looked up to see Blaine staring at him intently, biting his lower lip in amusement.  Kurt shook his head and continued.

“Adapt and Improvise – that’s an A and an I.  Negotiate begins with N.”  Two more cards joined the others.  He held the last one aloft.  “And finally, Enjoy begins with the letter E,” he declared, placing the final card on his lap with a flourish.  “Put them all together, and you get B-L-A-I-N-E.”

“Well done, gorgeous,” Blaine congratulated him with a nudge to the shoulder.

“So all along, what you wanted me to know about kissing is that when I do it, I should think of you?”  Kurt quirked a brow as he stared Blaine down, seemingly affronted, but the way his mouth twitched up at the corner belied his tone.

Blaine laughed lightly, and before he knew it, Kurt was joining him.  “You’re so ridiculous,” he murmured as their laughter died down.  Kurt turned his attention to the cards in his lap, fumbling with them nervously, suddenly very, very aware of Blaine’s proximity.  He stopped fidgeting when Blaine’s hand came to rest atop his own. 

“Why me?” Kurt asked softly, still focusing on their joined hands on his lap and becoming painfully aware of the sound of his own heartbeat.

“What?”

“Why me?  Why, out of all the kids at McKinley, did you choose to step in and protect me?”

“Do I really need to tell you?” Blaine reached out with his free hand and brushed his finger under Kurt’s chin, encouraging him to look up.

Kurt turned and saw that Blaine’s face was closer now, his eyes soft and warm, his expression open and hopeful and nervous.  Kurt was overwhelmed by the realization that he could read all of those things so easily.  It was as if he found the key to a language he never knew existed. 

“No one ever…” his voice broke with emotion, and Blaine gave his hand a comforting squeeze, never breaking eye contact.  “No one ever saw.  No one ever helped before.  No one ever cared.”  Blaine tenderly stroked Kurt’s cheek with the tips of his fingers. 

Kurt felt the tears threatening to form in his eyes.  He shook his head in wonder at the amazing boy beside him.  This boy, armed in black leather and a crass attitude, had single-handedly succeeded in protecting Kurt when no other soul had ever bothered to try. 

Then Kurt knew – _this_ was the real Blaine Anderson.

“Blaine,” he breathed out.

“Kurt,” the other answered softly.  The sound of his name falling reverently from Blaine’s lips for the first time was more than Kurt’s heart could bear.

_Breathe._

The word floated through his mind as Kurt leaned forward and closed the final few inches between them.  His heart fluttered wildly in his chest as their lips met, touching lightly at first, barely pressing together. 

_Loosen up._

As soon as he felt Blaine’s lips move against his, he the tension in his shoulders dissipated, allowing him to turn into Blaine and relax.  He pressed in closer, following his instincts and parting his lips slightly as they slid over Blaine’s. 

_Adapt and Improvise_

Kurt felt Blaine shift beside him and then a warm hand was cradling his jaw.  He tilted his head into the touch, feeling a thrill go through him at the change in sensation when their mouths met at a different angle.  He reached a hand out and slid it up and across Blaine’s shoulder, enjoying the muffled sound of appreciation he received in response.

_Negotiate_

Kurt had initiated the kiss, and he could tell Blaine let him direct things at first, but then he noted a subtle change as Blaine’s took Kurt’s lower lip between his own caressingly.  Kurt found he was more than willing to comply, responding to the motion and losing himself in the feeling.

_Enjoy_

As the romance stories always say, the need for air finally overcame the need for kissing, and they reluctantly parted.  Kurt fluttered his eyes open as he tried to bring his racing heart under control.  Based on the soft panting coming from the hazel-eyed boy a few inches away, he was not alone. 

“Hi,” Kurt whispered with a giggle.

Blaine leaned back in for a quick peck to the corner of Kurt’s mouth.  “Hi,” he answered.

“Say it again,” Kurt pleaded, sliding his hand from Blaine’s shoulder to his bicep.

“Um, hi?” Blaine repeated questioningly.

“No.  The part…the part where you said my name,” he shyly corrected.

Blaine beamed a heart-stopping smile, reaching out again to cup Kurt’s cheek with his hand, stroking it with the pad of his thumb.  “ _Kurt_.  My sweet, brilliant, amazing, beautiful Kurt,” he complied happily, earning himself another, longer kiss.  Resting their foreheads together, Blaine quipped, “Had I known that, I’d have called you by name ages ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think I could do it without blurting out how I felt about you,” he admitted.

“Oh, Blaine.  And all this time, I thought I was the silly romantic.”  Kurt leaned back to look again into the honey-colored eyes he couldn’t resist.

Blaine shrugged bashfully and, for the first time in Kurt’s experience, blushed.  It was too adorable.

“You know,” Kurt offered, taking both of Blaine’s hands in his own and intertwining their fingers between them, “maybe we could use my name as an acronym for something, too.” 

“Oh, really?  And how might that go?” Blaine played along.

“Hmm.  Let’s see,” Kurt mused, biting his lip in mock thought.  “The first letter of my name is a K, which could stand for…” he prompted.

“It could stand for Kiss,” Blaine supplied.

“Ooh, that could work,” Kurt agreed.  “So, what would the next letter stand for?” Kurt asked, his breath hitching as Blaine slid closer, freeing one hand to wrap around Kurt and rest firmly at the small of his back.

“Do you care?” he said, smiling when he felt Kurt shiver at the low, husky tone of his voice.

“Uh-uh,” Kurt murmured, his eyes slipping closed as Blaine passionately claimed his lips once more.  It seemed they had all the tips and lessons they needed.  Now, it was merely a matter of practice makes perfect, and Kurt was nothing if not a dedicated student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta daa!  I hope you enjoyed this crazy little fic of mine.  Let me know if you figured out the trick hidden in Blaine’s flashcards – no one mentioned it in reviews, so if you did break his code, thank you for not posting a spoiler!  May you all find a Blaine with whom you can practice your arts and sciences.  Be kind to yourselves, and to one another.

**Author's Note:**

> Next time: homework time gets interesting!


End file.
